I'm that guy: The one who doesn't want to be there

Groups frighten me, making me retreat to safety. Committees are the worst. I sit with eyes down, hands in lap, feet crossed at the ankles, like the group's Buddha. Some think me aloof, others arrogant, while a few accurately read my mind: "Get me outta here!"

"You must have something worthwhile to add," the chairperson often asks, glaring at me with benign contempt.

"Nothing to add," I always say.

I was chosen for my "input," my "sharing," so that I might help "build consensus." I'd rather be having a colonoscopy.

Once I tried group psychotherapy with nothing good coming from it. Apparently my whining wasn't up to par. After I finished telling my problems, the woman to my right sighed mightily, and the man across from me chortled.

The psychotherapist looked at me, appearing disappointed and peeved, while the rest of the group simply stared and moved on faster than you could say "Prozac."

Animals have group names: a herd of cattle, gaggle of geese - then there are the more fanciful: parliament of owls, exaltation of larks, smack of jellyfish, leap of leopards. Which compels me to foist appropriate names onto groups of people.

? An earbud of teenagers - Deaf and dumb, which about says it all.

? An immersion of Baptists - Dripping wet, searching for coffee and doughnuts.

? A fifth of Episcopalians - Old joke: "Wherever four are gathered, there's always a fifth."

? A clot of phlebotomists - Blood related, this group really sticks together.

? A pomposity of city council members - Deciding in secret, voting in public.

? A shout of Pentecostals - Hands in air, a melee of prayer.

? A prevarication of politicians - A lie is a lie is a lie.

About all I can do with groups is contrive sarcastic names for them and hope my cynicism makes them disappear. But that's not going to happen. I'm stuck - ganged up on.

Maybe in my next committee meeting I'll yammer away - hit the group with an onslaught of claptrap so they'll realize I've finally gone round the bend. Better yet, perhaps I should offend the power brokers and get exiled to my office forever, never welcomed to a committee again, forever banned from their precious groups.

Thus, having been banished, I'll be safely ensconced in that most insufferable group of all:

? A blowhard of newspaper columnists, the group that knows everything. Just ask us.

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I'm that guy: The one who doesn't want to be there

Groups frighten me, making me retreat to safety. Committees are the worst. I sit with eyes down, hands in lap, feet crossed at the ankles, like the group's Buddha. Some think me aloof, others